In the Quiet Country of Surrey
by Adrianna-Rossetti
Summary: Miranda's caught up in her divorce with Stephen, and just wants a small break. She travels to Surrey, where there, she meets a very interesting writer named Andrea Sachs. Loosely follows the plot of 'The Holiday'. A/U. Andy never works for Miranda.
1. Chapter 1

**Don't own DWP or The Holiday.**

**I love Christmas-it's my favorite holiday! (Should hopefully be finished before then :))**

Miranda Priestly took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. Looking at the clock resting on her clear glass desk, she groaned softly. 3:00 am. It really was too late to be staying up, but it couldn't be helped. The latest issue was set to print in two days, and Miranda had been busy trying to tie everything together. Her staff had left around 1:00 am, and only her loyal first assistant, Emily remained. Miranda's fingers drifted down to the beaded necklace she wore, and she toyed with it, gazing down at the Book. Her eyes, exhausted, did not do much but skim everything over rather quickly. To top everything off, her husband-now ex-husband-had decided to indulge in a fling with one of his co-workers a month ago, and now she found herself in the middle of a divorce procedure where the end seemed far away. Miranda couldn't say she was that surprised when she learned of her husband's infidelity the month prior, but she couldn't help that stab of pain that she felt when she saw the two intertwined in _her _bed. Why did everybody leave her? The powerful Editor knew she wasn't an easy woman to live with-her personality alone she knew wasn't very pleasant. Her demanding job also was a strain on every marriage she had, but she tried. She tried with her first husband, and with her second, and now Stephen was leaving her too. Everybody left. The white-haired woman sighed and swiveled her chair to look out the New York City skyline. It was bright and bustling as usual, since it was the 'city that never sleeps'. Lights were on, taxi cab drivers were honking and yelling obscenities, and the sky was an inky black. There was no snow, regrettably. Caroline would be upset about that fact. Miranda smiled at the thought of her children. The only people who never left her, and whom she truly adored and loved.

"Miranda?" Emily's strong accent cut through Miranda's thoughts, and she immediately dropped her fingers from her necklace, and rotated her chair.

"Yes?" Miranda said, quietly noting the fatigue that obviously surrounded the young woman's frame.

"I have the edits from the last couple of pages," the redhead practically dropped them on her desk and slumped over for the shortest of seconds before immediately snapping straight back into position.

Miranda looked at them, and picked one up delicately before addressing her first assistant. "Go home Emily."

"W-what?" Emily gasped.

"It's late. Go home," Miranda flicked her fingers.

"O-ok. Um, thanks." Emily looked hesitantly at her boss before turning away and rushing out the door.

Miranda turned back to the papers on her desk, and felt heavy-headed. Her eyes were fuzzy and her brain seemed to be pounding on her skull. She groaned, but steeled herself for another all-nighter to make sure she produced the best magazine in the world.

* * *

Issue number 314 was finally in print, and Miranda couldn't be more relieved. She loved her job-fashion was her life, her everything. But this issue was complicated to complete due to the stress she faced in her personal life. Her divorce was becoming even more tiresome and long, and Stephen was being a complete jerk. He claimed that she should pay her alimony every month due to the fact that the twins would be with him twice a year. He wanted her fortune, and Miranda was not, under any circumstances, going to give him that. He had cheated on her, and yet he wanted _her_ to pay him.

Miranda, seated in her usual throne behind her desk, breathed a gust of air out of her nose. She was feeling stressed and overworked, something that never happened to her. Even during her hardest months, she worked hard and saw the issue the entire way through, maintaining the façade that everything was alright. But as the holidays drew nearer and the days grew shorter, Miranda found herself wanting to relax for the first time in all of her 52 years. She gasped at herself. It was so unlike her to want to take a vacation, but in a sudden moment of clarity, she realized that was what she needed. A vacation. By herself, no Caroline or Cassidy, no Runway, and no Stephen. She bit her lower lip. What would the magazine do? A spark of inspiration drew a small smile to her lips, and she opened her mouth.

"Emily," she called softly, knowing that the assistant would hear her.

"Yes Miranda?" the redhead scurried in.

"I am taking a month vacation," Miranda announced, enjoying the shock and horror that spread over Emily's face.

"Wh-what?" she stuttered. "B-but, the magazine! What are we going to do without-"

"Send Nigel in," Miranda dismissed her without addressing her in the slightest. "That's all."

Emily stood there gaping for a full four seconds before she finally pulled herself together and rushed out of the room, her head spinning from Miranda's unexpected news. A whole entire issue without the fashion maven! She gulped, and hoped she didn't have to face the angry mob of dedicated Runway fans who would surely storm the Elias-Clarke building if they realized their Queen was gone.

* * *

"So I hear you're going on vacation," Nigel said in way of a greeting, and entered her office without being invited in.

"Yes," Miranda raised an eyebrow at him.

"In all of your 26 years here, you've never taken a break before," Nigel cupped his chin with his palm.

"Yes, well, that was because before, I didn't have to deal with idiots such as Stephen," Miranda pursed her lips.

"Where will you go?" Nigel asked.

"I have no idea," Miranda admitted. "But far away from here. Somewhere not in the United States."

"I think I have the perfect solution for you," Nigel rubbed the hand that was cupping his chin. "But you'd have to be open to the fact that somebody might be living in your house."

"Absolutely not," Miranda hissed through clenched teeth.

"I was afraid you'd say that," Nigel shook his head. "Perhaps he will do it anyways, and stay with me."

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Miranda snapped.

"My good friend from high school, David, lives in the quiet country of Surrey," Nigel explained. "He'd probably be open to letting you stay at his house if you'd like."

"Surrey? Is that in England?" Miranda tapped her own chin contemplatively.

"Yes, southeast England. It's a sleepy little country, but the perfect get-away location," Nigel shrugged. "It's your choice. If you want it, I'll talk to him and ask him if he'd be ok with that, but I'm sure he will. He's not gay, but he loves you…and Runway of course," Nigel winked.

Miranda drummed her fingers on her desk. "Emily?" she called out. "Make arrangements for my children to stay with their birth father for the next month. Nigel will be taking over for me in that time, and I will return the first of January."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks everybody! I included another love story at the end of this chapter-I thought Emily deserved some loving. :) **

As Miranda stood outside the house, she seriously regretted her decision to spend 5 hours in a plane for _this. _This was a _cottage_. Not a house, as Nigel put it. A cottage. Sure it looked cozy enough, but it was a far cry from the luxurious accommodations Miranda had grown accustomed to in her own life. Sighing, she told the taxi driver to carry her bags inside the house, earning a mumbled 'geez lady'. Miranda rolled her eyes and ignored him. The guy was actually going to kick her out of the cab, and force her to walk 3 miles to get to the house in the first place! Yes, the road was a little slippery, Miranda had to admit, but there was no chance in hell that she would ever walk that far. She simply raised an eyebrow, and used the voice that reduced men to tears. It did the trick.

Miranda led the way into the cottage, and used her shoulder to get the front door to open, immediately shivering when she felt the cold winter air inside the walls. There didn't appear to be any sort of heating system. There was a log fireplace, but that was about it, from what Miranda could tell. She was going to kill Nigel. Even though the press dubbed Miranda the 'Ice Queen', it was a little known fact that she hated the cold. Miranda only put up with it because she lived in an environment that had cold winters, but she secretly wished to move somewhere warmer, like LA or Florida. Masking her shiver from the cab driver who was awkwardly standing in the small living room, she handed him a generous tip and he lumbered away with a hurried 'thanks'.

Miranda was finally alone. She looked around the small room, and couldn't help the small smile that spread across her lips. Sure it was really small, but maybe that was what she needed. A break from the commercialized, rich world of New York, and a chance to unwind and perhaps do a little soul-searching in a place that didn't seem fake. Miranda walked over to the fireplace, and contemplated how to light it. She wasn't an idiot, but she had never before in her life started a fire from scratch. Pursing her lips, her sharp eyes scanned for clues. Rolling her eyes at her idiocy, Miranda picked up a matchbox and pushed it open. Drawing one out, she removed her fur-lined gloves and confidently struck the match against the side of the cardboard. The flame erupted on the little ball at the end of the stick, and she dropped it into the fireplace where it promptly fizzled out and died. Miranda stared at it, and then pursing her lips, drew another match out and struck it harshly against the side of the box, her famous determination and winning streak rearing their heads. Again, she tossed it into the fireplace, and it landed amidst some logs, where it sputtered out again. The Editor tried three more times, and then growled in frustration and gave up. Chucking the matchbox down without any care as to where it landed, Miranda muttered under her breath on her way up the curving staircase.

When she reached the top, she almost cried when she saw the bed. It was big-not as big as the bed she had in New York, but it was definitely the biggest item in the cottage. There was a huge comforter adoring the bed, and multiple pillows crowded it. A small television rested at the foot of the bed, but the fatigued Editor paid almost no mind to it. Miranda sagged in relief when she saw the bed. It looked so warm, and so inviting. Shucking her Michael Kors coat, she draped it over a chair, and kicked her Jimmy Choo heels off before slipping under the warm sheets. They were thick and warm, and while they weren't silk, they were soft in a comforting and familiar way. Miranda, suddenly feeling exhausted from the flight, snuggled deeper into the covers and pulled the blankets up so high, they were almost covering her face. She allowed a few tears to fall, mainly from exhaustion, but also for her failed marriage before she drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

Some time later, she awoke and lazily stretched out, enjoying the sense of peace and freedom she felt. Yawning, Miranda glanced at the bedside clock. It read 9:04 pm. Instead of feeling panicked at the thought she had basically wasted 5 hours just sleeping, she felt contented. She owed it to herself to relax. The silver-haired woman sat up, but then immediately laid back down under the warm sheets after she felt the chilly air. After a few minutes of staring at the slightly cracked ceiling, her stomach growled. She knew she had to get up and eat something, and as much as it pained her to do so, she stuck her feet out and groaned when the icy air penetrated them. Standing quickly, Miranda rushed to put on her coat. She kneeled down by her suitcase, and after she opened it, rummaged around for a minute before she pulled out a thick pair of woolen socks. They were her secret pleasure. The one unfashionable item she loved to wear during the wintertime.

Miranda pulled the coat around her tighter, and shivered before making her way downstairs. She reached the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator door, pleasantly surprised to find it fully stocked. The Editor pulled out eggs and bacon, and proceeded to make herself a dinner that was full of unhealthy calories she hadn't consumed in years. Who knew that a vacation would be this fun? Miranda smirked as she popped a piece of cooked bacon in her mouth. Letting out a soft moan at the flavor she had so carefully avoided since high school, she savored the taste. She couldn't believe she had denied herself one of life's greatest pleasures for so long. Maybe this vacation was making her crazy, but Miranda found herself indulging in things she hadn't in so long-sleeping for long periods of time, eating greasy and fatty foods…what would be next?

As Miranda cleaned the dishes, she pondered what she should do. She had brought her phone and laptop, but really didn't want to spoil her relaxing evening with technology. Pouring herself a generous amount of red wine, she crossed her arms tightly around her body to try and generate some heat, and then busied herself with reading the titles of the books on the shelves. Miranda had read most of them, but a few that she had never heard of stuck out. She shivered again-it was far too cold to be down in the living room. Making a mental note to check the books out later, she climbed back up the stairs and slipped out of her coat before slipping back under the covers. She took a sip of her wine and flipped the tv on, giving into watching an electronic screen since she had nothing else to do. The Editor was so engrossed in a documentary about Jacques Doucet, that she jumped violently when there was a brash knocking on the door. The wine in her glass spilled over the top, and she cursed under her breath when she felt it seep through her expensive, white blouse she was wearing.

Throwing her legs over the bed, Miranda set the glass down on the side table, and reached for her coat. The knocking came again, louder this time, and Miranda's mood shot from relaxed to annoyed in a heartbeat. She stomped down the stairs and yanked open the door, suddenly going speechless when she saw a beautiful young brunette standing in front of her. They stared at each other for a moment, before the mystery woman chuckled and said in a British accent, "Well shit. You're a whole lot prettier than my brother."

* * *

"David!" Nigel clapped his best friend on the back.

"Hi Nigel," he responded with an easy-going grin. Nigel bit back a sigh when he remembered the handsome man wasn't gay. David was an even 6-foot tall, dirty blond haired man that any homosexual man would go nuts over.

"How's life?" Nigel shouldered one of the other man's suitcases, and they started walking out of the airport.

"Fine," he shrugged. "Nothing interesting to report. Work's going well and my love life is in the toilet as usual."

"Did Natalie…" Nigel trailed off.

"Yep," David shook his head slightly. "It was going so well until she suddenly decided that I wasn't 'invested' enough in the relationship."

"I'm sorry. If it's any consolation, it sounds like our favorite Editor," Nigel grinned ruefully. "She's having problems in the love department too."

They reached the car and David whistled when he saw the Mercedes Benz. "Must be doing well for yourself," he chuckled as he slid into the luxurious seat. Nigel loaded the suitcase in the back, and then made his way to the driver's seat. They drove to his apartment, easy banter flowing between the two men. When Nigel lived in Surrey, David was the first person he had come out to. An awkward and quiet kid at school, Nigel had few friends, and his struggles with his sexuality didn't help matters at all. David had helped him through the whole ordeal. He had offered a safe haven when Nigel's few friends and family turned on him after he came out, and he provided good advice that helped Nigel become stronger. Soon after graduating Comprehensive school, Nigel had a job offer in New York due to his exceptional talent in fashion, and he jumped at the chance to start over. He tried not to be overly emotional when he said goodbye to the one person who accepted him, not wanting to make a dramatic scene of it. Nigel simply hugged him, thanked him, and that was that. They had each other's phone numbers, so they could stay in touch, and Nigel boarded the plane with a lump in his throat. Once he landed in America, he slowly lost his British accent, shaved his hair off, and replaced his geeky glasses with sleek ones. He had found friends in America who were a lot more accepting of gays, but he still kept in touch with David.

They reached Nigel's apartment, and David whistled when he saw the posh interior. "You're a great decorator," he commented.

"Thank you," Nigel smiled and put David's suitcase in the spare bedroom. He clapped his hands together as he returned to the living room. "Do you want to run to Runway with me really quick? I have to finish editing a page, and then we can grab dinner after."

"Sounds good," David grinned. "Want to hit up a hot dog stand?"

Nigel looked at him, scandalized as he pulled open the door, and David held up his hands in surrender. "Kidding. I'm kidding."

* * *

"Okay, I'll just be a second. You can either come in or you can hang around the office. There should be a few people left if you feel social," Nigel said.

"I'm going to go use the loo quickly," David replied and Nigel nodded, then slipped into his office.

After he was done in the restroom, he was distracted and quite literally bumped into a figure that was much smaller than his own.

"Oh my goodness I'm so sorry," he quickly apologized and instinctively placed his hands on the other person's arms.

He pulled back and saw the person for the first time. The petite woman standing in front of him stole his breath away. She was a stunning redhead who had a bit too much eyeshadow and eyeliner on, but was still pretty nevertheless.

"You should be!" her furious voice snapped, but when her eyes lifted to meet his, the tension suddenly drained out of her body. "Uh…"

"Lovely accent," David said, leaving his hands placed in her arms. "Where in England are you from?"

"Hampshire," she replied haughtily, some of her spark returning. "You?"

"Surrey," he grinned and Emily felt weak in the knees. "David Mason."

"Emily Charlton."

"Pleasure to meet you Emily Charlton," David sent her another stunning smile, and Emily was suddenly very glad he was holding onto her.

"Well David Mason, I would be pleased if you took your hands off me," Emily tried to regain control of the situation.

David lifted his hands and wriggled his fingers for emphasis that he wasn't touching her. Emily sniffed and turned around, intent on leaving to ponder the encounter later. Unfortunately, he followed her.

"What the hell are you doing?" Emily said crossly.

"I'm intrigued by you Emily Charlton," he rubbed his chin and continued walking close behind her.

"Where did you even come from anyways? The doors are locked," Emily felt incredibly stupid when she realized that piece of information. This man could be a total lunatic who could kill her without a second's thought. She backed away slowly, her eyes suddenly wide.

"Oh bullocks," David hit his forehead, correctly interpreting her reaction. "I'm not a murderer or a robber. Nigel is a good friend of mine, and I came here with him. I swear I'm not going to hurt you."

"That's what people always say right before they're going to kill their victims," Emily frowned.

"Er, how can I convince you?" David lifted his hands in an attempt to calm the scared-looking woman.

"He's telling the truth Emily," Nigel raised an eyebrow as he stepped forward to rescue both of them. "Miranda's staying at his house in Surrey, and he's staying at mine for the time-being."

"Oh, well then..." Emily trailed off and then turned back around and kept walking. "Welcome to America David Mason," she threw over her shoulder, and David smiled when he saw the corners of her mouth lift up.

"Who was she?" David turned to Nigel, the dopey smile still on his face.

Nigel chuckled and they started walking to the elevators. "She's Emily, Miranda's first assistant. I have to tell you David, that's the first time I've ever seen Emily…flirtatious for lack of a better term."

"Do you think you could give me her number?" David lightly bumped his shoulder. "I think she may be the one."

"You said that about Natalie too," Nigel shook his head and pressed the elevator button.

"But Emily's different," David tried to explain. "She's fiery. Sassy. And she's from England too!"

"Okay," Nigel shrugged, and they stepped off the elevator. "But firstly, don't be too upset if it doesn't work out, and secondly, don't hurt her. She may not be my best friend or anything, but I do care for her."

"I promise," David solemnly swore and could hardly contain his excitement when Nigel took his phone and typed the information in. He hadn't felt this way about another woman in a long time-he was convinced that he was drunk and delusional when he courted Natalie for the few short months they were together. There was something special and different about this Emily, and he wanted desperately to figure it out. Taking his phone back from his good friend, he opened a new message and bit his lip as he stared at the blank screen. Finally, he began typing.

_Hello Emily Charlton._

_No, I am not a secret CIA agent either-I received your contact information from Nigel. I would very much like to meet with you for a spot of tea sometime. I will be in town for the next month, and will be eagerly awaiting your response._

_David Mason._

He confidently hit the send button, and then buttoned up his coat, ignoring Nigel's inquisitive look.

"So?" Nigel tapped his foot.

"So what?" David shrugged. "I texted her asking if she'd like to meet for a spot of tea, and left the rest up to her."

"A spot of tea?" Nigel teased. "You sound so formal."

"I am English after all," David stuck his hands in his pockets. "So I was thinking…maybe we could go to the new Italian place that just opened up?"

Nigel chuckled and followed his high school friend out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks guys! Kudos to the reviewer who guessed correctly-Andrea is going to light Miranda's fire! ...In more ways than one. ;) Also some fluff between Emily and David. :)**

Miranda stared at the woman opposite from her. The tall brunette was wearing a black Northface coat, dark blue jeans tucked into brown boots, and a large woolen scarf. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and her large dark eyes were slightly glassy, suggesting she had too much to drink before she knocked on the door.

"Can I help you?" Miranda asked cooly, trying to calm her slightly fluttering heart. She hadn't been called pretty in a long time. She'd been called intimidating in her adult life, but not many commented on her beauty.

"Since you obviously aren't my brother, would you mind telling me where he is?" the other woman's face turned down in a pout. "I need to talk to him."

"He's in America," Miranda informed the brunette, hiding her charmed expression by the British accent.

"What? Why didn't he tell me? How did he get there? That's so not fair," her face crumbled, and she took a wobbly step forward. "I'm the one with the problems!"

She tripped over unsteady feet, and Miranda's arms automatically reached out to catch her. The young woman quickly pushed away from the Editor, and sniffled pathetically, her eyes tearing up.

"I-" she hiccuped, "I'm sorry to bother you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Miranda rolled her eyes and reached for the other woman's arm. "Come in."

The crying woman sniffled and gratefully stepped into the house, but immediately recoiled when she felt the cold air penetrate her body. "It's freezing," she mumbled and wrapped her arms around herself.

"The fireplace wasn't working," Miranda lied, feeling a blush creep on her proud cheekbones. There was no chance she was admitting to this beautiful woman that she couldn't light it.

"Maybe I'll take a crack at it," she wiped tears away from her eyes, and Miranda felt a foreign feeling of sympathy and concern for her.

The brunette teetered over to the fireplace, and kneeled down. Frowning slightly, she turned her head back to Miranda and asked, "Where are the matches?"

"Er, try under the couch," Miranda blushed deeper, thankful for the low lighting.

Her forehead creased in concentration when she extended her arm under the couch, only to be replaced with a look of victory a second later when her fingers closed around the matchbox. Pulling it out, a bright grin appeared on the woman's face. She picked up a spare piece of newspaper, and lit the match before lighting the paper on fire and throwing the wad into the fireplace. Miranda watched the simple process with extreme embarrassment. How could she not have figured it out? Shaking her head at herself, she watched the brunette stir the cozy fire with the black poker, and then close the grate. She turned, and Miranda inhaled a sharp breath when she saw the shadows from the fire casting beautiful shadows on the youthful face. The young woman, oblivious to the other woman's fascination, unwrapped her scarf and unzipped her coat, revealing a simple cerulean shirt underneath.

"Thank you," Miranda said, walking over and seating herself on the couch. She sighed contentedly when the fire's heat warmed her, and she nonchalantly scooted closer to the source of the warmth.

"You're welcome," the other woman replied and pushed herself up to sit on the couch a couple inches away from the fashion maven. "Aren't you going to take your coat off?"

"I don't warm up easily," Miranda placed her hands between her knees, trying to heat them up subtly. Plus, the coat was hiding her wine-stained shirt.

After a few moments of silence and staring into the fire, the brunette finally spoke. "My name's Andy," she stuck out her hand.

Charmed, Miranda took it and shook it firmly. "Miranda. Surely your full name isn't Andy."

"Oh, it's Andrea Marie Sachs, but most people call me Andy."

"Ah," Miranda crossed her legs. "Why do you and your brother have different last names?"

"Same mother, different father," Andrea shrugged. "So technically we're step-siblings, but we're really close."

"I take it you were looking for him then?"

"Yes," Andrea's eyes turned sad again. They sat in silence again for a couple of seconds until the brunette blurted out, "Nate dumped me."

"Nate is…?" Miranda asked, seeking clarification.

"My ex-boyfriend," Andrea's eyes welled with tears and she sniffled. "He was my longest boyfriend too! We've been dating since our second year in Comprehensive school, and I thought I really loved him and he really loved me. But then after I got a job at the newspaper, I started working really late, and he couldn't handle it. He thought I was cheating on him whenever I stayed at the office past midnight, and he hated that I would miss events because of work. But I couldn't help it-I finally got promoted to a Junior Editor, and I've just….I've been working so hard to get to this point," she dissolved into a mess of tears and Miranda reached out her hand, placing it softly on the distraught woman's knee. The brunette lifted her head and smiled slightly at the other woman. She reached down and laced her fingers with the soft hand on her leg. "Thank you," she said shyly, and then hiccuped. "As you can tell, I drank a few too many before I came here."

"Perfectly understandable," Miranda said, keeping her hand firmly in Andrea's. "When I heard of my husband's plans to divorce me, I also found a good friend in Chardonnay."

"Chardonnay? No way." Andrea snorted. "Classy though. I had shots of whiskey at the local pub."

"Classy," Miranda echoed, smiling slightly when she heard the other woman giggle.

"So, have you been divorced long?" Andrea's eyes widened and she clapped her hand over her mouth, losing the contact between the two, much to Miranda's dismay. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to pry or anything-"

"It's fine," Miranda raised an eyebrow at the younger woman's babbling. "Much like you, my husband found my job too demanding, and only recently we've started divorce proceedings."

Andrea looked sad at that news and she sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm not," Miranda said, drawing a look of shock from the writer's face.

Andrea didn't know how to respond to that statement, so she fell silent before opening her mouth again.

"Where are you from anyways?" she reached her hand up to brush back a lock of hair that fell in her face.

"New York," Miranda felt a small tendril of fear when she asked. _She knows who I am!_

"And what is your surname?"

Miranda briefly considered lying. She wanted to know the other woman without her reputation getting in the way, but realized that lying would probably not be the best course of action. She sighed and said, "Priestly. Miranda Priestly."

"Miranda Priestly," Andrea said, rolling the syllables around in her mouth. Miranda found that she quite liked hearing her name in a British accent because unlike Emily, Andrea's smooth voice wasn't shaking when she talked to her. "I like it!"

Relief flood through the Editor's system. The other woman didn't know who she was. Thank goodness-Miranda wanted to hold some anonymity during her vacation. She was grateful that the other woman wasn't just using her. There were too many fake people in the industry she worked in, including herself. It was refreshing to meet somebody who seemed real and still retained that innocence.

She chuckled and said, "Thank you."

"So what do you do Miranda?" Andrea wiped stray tears out of the corners of her eyes, and Miranda accepted the obvious change in conversation.

"I'm in the fashion industry," Miranda leaned back into the soft couch.

"I'm afraid I don't know much about that world," Andrea said ruefully and tucked her long legs underneath her. "My brother does though. He loves this one magazine, Catwalk, or something like that."

Instead of feeling offended, Miranda smirked. "I haven't heard of it."

"Oh," Andrea scrunched up her nose in the most adorable way. "I can't remember the title."

"That's alright," Miranda tilted her head. "What are you interested in Andrea?" she pronounced the name with the emphasis on the second syllable.

"Writing mostly, and reading," Andrea blushed. "Nothing too interesting."

"On the contrary, I find you really interesting," Miranda hid a smile when she saw Andrea's pretty blush deepen. "What kind of reading do you do?"

"I love poetry, especially Emily Dickinson," Andrea said, her eyes sparkling as she came alive with the subject she knew most about. "I love the classics…Shakespeare, Dickens, Austen, Tolkien. All of them are British except for Dickinson," she laughed. "I've always been the nerdy kid who had her nose stuck in a book in school. So what drew you to fashion?"

"I grew up in London," Miranda enjoyed the look of surprise on the other woman's face. "My grandmother was a lover of the American fashionistas…Marilyn, Grace Kelly, Audrey Hepburn, etc. She owned a small boutique in the middle of the fashion center, and would sew all of her own clothes. She was the one who taught me how to sketch and construct art. My father left me when I was about 5, and my mother wasn't around much after either. I don't blame her of course," Miranda's eyes grew slightly misty as she poured her life out to the only person she ever told, "she was a single mom who was struggling to make ends meet. She had to work two jobs to support us both, so I spent the majority of my life with my grandma, in her shop. I still remember the day Greta Garbo came into the boutique. She was old, but still beautiful. My grandma was so overwhelmed and pleased, she almost cried. I was only 13 years old at the time, but I still remember the look of joy on her face. It's the best memory I have of her," Miranda discreetly wiped away a tear. "The day she died was the saddest day of my entire life. I was distraught. She was my entire world-she inspired me everyday, and taught me life's valuable lessons. After she died, I inherited everything she had, but I gave 3/4 of it to my mother. I thought she needed it more than I did, but the morning after I gave her the money, she was gone. No note, no explanation. She left me," Miranda shook slightly at the old pain that came with the thought of her mother abandoning her. "I used the remaining money to fly to America and try and make a living. I started from the very bottom and worked my way up the ladder. It took me years to get to my position as Editor-in-Chief, and I am so grateful to my grandma for teaching me everything I know today. There isn't a day that goes by where I don't think about her."

Andrea's eyes were so tender in that moment, Miranda's breath caught in her throat when she saw the liquid pools of chocolate.

"Come here," Andrea whispered, opening her arms.

Miranda hesitated just for a moment before scooting over into a warm embrace. The slender woman's arms wrapped themselves around her slim frame, and drew her in close. Miranda inhaled a shaky gasp, partly due to the close proximity, and partly because she was crying, and breathed in a delicious fragrance of perfume, lotion, and Andrea's unique scent. She had never spoken about her past before, and although it hurt, it was a healing balm to her soul.

"I'm sorry for being so emotional," Miranda tried to pull back, but was stopped by surprisingly strong arms. "It takes a lot to make me cry. I haven't had a good cry like this in I don't know how long."

"Don't apologize," Andrea whispered in the older woman's ear. "I can tell that you needed this."

She laid down, and gently pulled Miranda down on top of her. The Editor, surprised, jerked back. "What are you doing?"

"I can see how much pain you're in, and I thought it would help you sleep," Andrea frowned slightly.

Miranda studied the glassy orbs, and decided it wouldn't hurt anything. The other woman was obviously drunk. The older woman gingerly lowered herself down, shifting most of her weight on the couch itself and not on Andrea. She threw an arm around the brunette's midsection, and rested her head on the young woman's breast-bone, over a thumping heart. Andrea's arm came up and curled around Miranda's back, her chin gently resting on top of soft white hair. Somehow, their legs intertwined, and Miranda let out a peaceful sigh that was echoed by Andrea. Miranda felt slightly absurd curled up next to a woman she had literally just met an hour earlier, but her ridiculousness soon faded when she felt a pair of soft lips land on her forehead and arms gently tightening around her frame. She felt something she hadn't in a long time, laying in the warm and comfortable embrace. She felt safe.

* * *

Emily looked at her phone in shock. David's message shone up at her, and although she tried to deny it, she couldn't help the slight fluttering of her heart. She felt a huge smile stretch across her lips before she quickly pursed her lips and whipped her head back and forth. Letting out a sigh of relief when she realized she was alone, she allowed a tiny smile to play across her lips before she cleared her throat and typed a response.

_Mr. Mason,_

_I appreciate your invitation for tea. We Brits can't get enough of the beverage! Shall we meet at a restaurant or shall we meet at my home?_

_Emily Charlton_

She sent it quickly, before she had time to proof-read it and then waited nervously for the response. Oh gosh, she hoped she didn't sound too dumb or cheeky. Her phone buzzed, and Emily pounced.

_Dear Ms. Charlton,_

_Let's meet at Nigel's house-I promise, he'll clear out. I brought some teas from Surrey that I feel you might take a fancy to. Let's meet tomorrow at 2:00?_

_David_

Emily couldn't help the smile this time. She quickly typed a response and sat down in her chair with a dazed expression on her face. Raising a cool palm to her flushed cheek, she giggled slightly. What was wrong with her? She had never felt like this before.

* * *

2:00 couldn't come faster for Emily, but of course, she was her cool, calm, collected self the whole morning. Right before she left, she ate two cubes of cheese since she felt very faint. Taking a deep breath, Emily left the office, ignoring the wink from Nigel, and hailed a cab. The whole way, she tried to calm her nerves. What the hell did she even have to be nervous about? Fiddling with her fingers, she idly checked her makeup using the camera in her iPhone and smiled when her face looked immaculate. Her green and black smokey eye was perfect, and her foundation covered her imperfections perfectly. Jiggling her knee slightly, Emily breathed out a heavy breath, and leaned back in the cheap upholstery.

"Rough day?" the cab driver looked in the rearview mirror.

Emily shot him a glare and frostily replied, "No."

That was the end of their conversation. The cab driver pulled up to the apartment building, and Emily passed him a twenty and a ten before she slid out of the taxi. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and confidently strode up to the door. She pressed the buzzer, and felt weak in the knees when the charming accented voice came crackling on.

"Is this Emily Charlton promptly on time for our tea date?"

"Yes," Emily had to hide her smile, feeling shocked at her actions. She normally wasn't this…_giddy_ feeling. "Are you ready for me?" She blushed at her word choice.

"Absolutely."

The intercom buzzed, and Emily let herself in. She took the elevator up to the 14th floor, and knocked on the door a little too forcefully. Cringing, she tried to school her features when she heard footsteps on the other side. The door swung open, and Emily swallowed hard when she took in the other man's appearance. He dressed simply in a dark green shirt and slacks, but his eyes and easy-going smile made Emily's brain turn to mush.

"Hi," she said breathily and then frowned at herself.

"Hi yourself," David smiled wider and stepped aside to let her in. "Let me take your coat."

"Thank you," Emily blushed when she felt his eyes quickly scanning her body.

She was wearing a simple green dress that matched her eyeshadow, but it fit her perfectly, and she knew it flattered her slim frame. David walked away to hang up her coat, only to return a second later with a teacup in his hand.

"What is this?" Emily raised an eyebrow as she took the offered cup from him. "Are you trying to poison me?"

"Poison?" David snorted. "No, just trying to bring a piece of home back to you. Try it."

Emily closed her eyes and took a delicate sip, smiling when the warm liquid trailed down her throat, leaving behind a familiar flavor. "Earl Grey. Delicious."

"It's a classic," David shrugged. "Haven't met an English person who doesn't love it yet. Delectable blend of a delicate flowery Darjeeling with citrus bergamot."

He took the half-drunken cup and offered his arm out to a stunned Emily. The redhead took it, trying hard to control her blush, and he led her to the kitchen, where a delightful aroma filled the air. Emily gasped when she saw the area. Multiple teapots sat on the stove, while dozens of teacups filled the countertop. She turned to David with her mouth slightly open.

"You did all this?" she whispered, extremely touched.

"Yes," he grinned at her and hesitantly reached out to hold her hands in between his own. "I told you. I wanted to bring some of the UK-some of your home-back to you."

Emily was speechless for a moment, and looked at their joined hands. Then she looked back up and held his gaze. "Thank you," she whispered, and gave his warm hands a gentle squeeze. "It's the sweetest thing anybody has ever done for me."

"You're welcome," he grinned. "I have another great tea that you'll love."

He lead her to a bar stool, and like the gentleman he was, pulled it out for her to sit on. She crossed her legs and rested her chin on the back of her hand, watching him. He picked up a kettle and poured the steaming liquid into two of the cups before he picked them both up and handed her one. Emily inhaled deeply, and detected a hint of mint.

"Cheers," David held up his cup and they clinked them together.

"Cheers," Emily echoed with a smile on her face. She raised the cup to her lips and blew on the liquid gently before tilting it. It had a bit of a kick to it. "What is this? It's good."

"That is Moroccan Mint," David rested his forearms on the marble counter. "Nana is a large-leafed, aromatic plant that, as you found out, is spicy."

"Mmm," Emily took another sip.

"Next," David snatched the cup out of her hands and held up his hand at Emily's protests. "I'm putting all of the teas in a line on the counter, and then at the end, you can choose which ones are your favorite."

"Fine," Emily's eyes narrowed playfully.

"Fine," David raised an eyebrow and turned to brew the next batch of tea.

"So what do you do David?" Emily rested her chin on the back of her hand again.

"Me?" he looked over his shoulder at her. "I'm a writer, like my sister. Unlike her though, I work at a bookstore, since being a writer isn't very profitable unless you sell a couple of best-selling novels. Then again, working at a bookstore isn't very profitable either. At least Andy has the newspaper to help her out financially, and can still write in her free time. Although, it's hard for her," his tone turned sad.

He turned with the glasses in his hand, and handed one to Emily. She accepted it, and looked down into the tea. "I would like to read some of your work," she said almost shyly. "I bet you're a wonderful writer."

"You'd really want to?" David looked surprised.

"Of course I would!" Emily's head snapped up, shocked at the incredulous tone.

"Wow," he shook his head. "Usually nobody wants to read it except for Andy."

"Oh, well I do," Emily reached out her hand and placed it on his forearm with a grin.

He stared at her for a minute before he lifted his cup. "Cheers Emily Charlton."

"Cheers," she tapped her glass against his. "Interesting," she said after she swallowed.

"It's Lemon Verbena. An unusual fruit infusion with many natural oils and a delicate citrus flavor," David peered into his cup. "One of my personal favorites. Perhaps it makes me unusual too."

"Perhaps it makes me odd too, since I also love it," Emily ran the tip of her finger around the rim of her cup.

"Maybe," he chuckled.

In the end, Emily tasted about 8 different teas from her childhood. She didn't know how David had gotten the teas to America, and part of her didn't want to either. She liked the mystery of it. Their conversation had been lively and Emily enjoyed David's company immensely. He made her laugh, and her spirit felt lighter than it had in years.

"So which one was your favorite?" David walked around the counter and sat down in a stool next to her.

"Lemon Verbena, Camomile, and Jasmine Gold," Emily replied.

"Wide range in flavors," David tapped his chin. "Interesting."

"What's interesting?" Emily rested her palm in her cheek, tilting her head at him.

"I like how you have different favorites in multiple different taste categories," he shrugged. "I don't know. I like it. I like you."

Emily inhaled sharply and set her cup down. "Like me?" she said in a small voice. She had always been the second girl-the girl that a boy would settle for if the true object of his desires didn't want him.

"Of course," he reached out and cupped her cheek, making Emily close her eyes at the feeling. "I know this is crazy since we just met and all, but I feel drawn to you Emily."

"I feel the same about you," she confessed, a few tears slipping out of her closed lashes.

His thumb ran across her cheekbone, brushing the tears away. "Why are you crying?" he asked gently.

"Because," Emily said helplessly. "I don't know. I haven't courted in years. I haven't been to my hometown since I left it 8 years ago, and suddenly, you show up and bring everything I could possibly want. Besides, nobody really finds me attractive or 'girlfriend' material."

"I would like to oppose that assessment," David reached his other hand up, and cupped her face with hands. Emily's green eyes flew open and she looked at him with teary eyes. "I find you incredibly beautiful and you are really good 'girlfriend' material." He smiled at her, and then leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. David pulled back, leaving a breathless Emily looking at him with wide eyes.

"Wow," she whispered and her shaking hand came up to trace her lips.

"Wow good?" he asked.

"Yes, very," she threw her arms around him and kissed him again, her heart feeling lighter than ever. They broke apart, both smiling at each other.

"Emily Charlton," David took her hand, "would you do me the honor of courting me?"

"It would be my pleasure David Mason," Emily grinned at the use of their last names and hugged him tightly.

David kissed her cheek and held her tighter, a wide smile spreading across his face. Emily's heart softened and she kissed him again, feeling lighter than air. Finally, she felt like she had found somebody who would take care of her and protect her. It didn't matter if she had just met him-this growing thing between them felt strong, powerful, and true. Emily smiled into the kiss and pulled him closer. Yes, he was the one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks everybody!**

Miranda woke slowly, her mind quickly registering the warm embrace she was in. It was a foreign feeling, but a wonderful one. Stephen had held her like this every night during their honeymoon, but once they returned to New York, he never initiated any contact. It felt nice. Blinking her long lashes to rid them of any sleep, she gasped quietly when she realized she was laying on top of a woman. A beautiful woman. A solid heartbeat sounded in her ear, and Miranda tried to lift herself up, only to find that an arm curled around her back prevented her from doing so fully. She propped herself up halfway, placing her arm in the small space by Andrea's side, and gazed at the young woman. Dark smudged eyeliner and mascara resided underneath closed lashes, and the Editor felt a pang when she remembered that the writer's boyfriend had broken up with her. Gently resting her hand on Andrea's shoulder, she reached up with her other hand to wipe away the makeup before snatching her fingers away quickly with a blush on her cheeks. Flushing, Miranda settled back down in her original position, and rested her head on Andrea's smooth chest, hiding her burning cheeks. Unconsciously, she nuzzled Andrea's décolletage and pressed her face closer to the soft, pale skin. Suddenly, the other woman stirred, and Miranda went still. There was a big yawn, and then a shocked gasp. The Editor tensed, sure that the other woman would toss her off and stomp out the door, but instead, an arm tightened sweetly around her body and the lovely British accent murmured, "Good morning Miranda."

Raising her head, Miranda was greeted with deep brown eyes looking at her tenderly. "You remember my name?" she asked in disbelief.

"Of course," Andrea blushed and look down. "I could never forget you."

"Oh," Miranda said, stunned.

Andrea smiled at her shyly, and Miranda felt an overwhelming feeling of compassion towards this woman.

"Sleep well?" she asked and propped herself up on her elbow, ridding the other woman of her weight, and trying to convince herself that the fleeting look Andrea had on her face was not one of disappointment.

"Yes, did you?" Andrea rolled her head back and rubbed her neck. "My brother has a surprisingly comfy couch."

"I did, thanks to you," Miranda sat all the way up, feeling self-conscious.

Andrea propped herself up on her elbows and lowered her lashes. "I apologize for my intrusion last night. I don't really remember anything but crying hysterically."

Miranda opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by a shrill ring. They both cringed at the noise, and Andrea reached over to pick up the phone on the table. "It's Caroline," she said and then averted her eyes. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Miranda took the phone from the brunette's outstretched hand, and then swiftly stood up and walked into the hallway for privacy. Andrea flopped back down on the couch, feeling like an idiot. She could just imagine the impression she gave the other woman. Miranda radiated sophistication, power, and beauty. Andrea looked down at her own outfit and grimaced. The North Face was a Christmas present from her parents four years ago, and the jeans she could barely afford after three paychecks. Plus, if the phone ID showed anything, Miranda probably already had a girlfriend who was rich and successful. Andrea groaned slightly. What did she have to offer? She stood up and made her way to the bathroom. As she was washing her hands, she looked in the mirror and almost screamed when she saw her eyes. She looked like a drunk panda. Reaching up with her wet hand, Andrea furiously scrubbed the dark makeup away, leaving pink streaks behind where the pale skin was aggravated. With the makeup gone, she swept out of the bathroom, almost running into Miranda.

"Where are you going?" the soft voice crept up Andrea's spine and sent a small shiver through the writer's body.

"Er, I'm going home," Andrea weakly pointed to the door. "I have to get changed...and stuff."

"Stuff?" while the other woman's tone was downright scary, her eyes twinkled and Andrea could feel herself relax.

"Why do you want to know?" she crossed her arms and smiled at the other woman. "Have something else in mind?"

"Would you care to join me for lunch?" Miranda said cooly.

"I have the perfect restaurant in mind," Andrea smiled. "How do you feel about Italian food?"

* * *

Emily blearily blinked open her eyes and froze immediately when she felt another body pressed flush against her own. She looked down, and sighed in relief when she realized she was wearing a large men's shirt. At least she wasn't naked. A warm set of lips pressed against her neck, and Emily immediately regretted that fact. She rolled over and looked in the warm eyes of David.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," he responded with a grin and leaned in for a kiss.

After they had finished with the tea the night prior, Nigel had returned, and the three of them went out for dinner. While David had raised an eyebrow at how little food Emily ate, he didn't comment on it. Emily had invited David over to her small apartment afterwards, and they had climbed on the roof and toasted the stars. One thing led to the next, and soon, they were in bed together. Emily smiled into the warm kiss and touched the side of his face tenderly.

"Ready for some breakfast?" David beamed. "I'm actually a really good chef."

"A man of many hidden talents I see," Emily propped herself up on her elbow. "Unfortunately, I'm not hungry right now."

"We burned off a lot of energy last night," David waggled his eyebrows. "Surely you must have some room?"

Emily snorted but shook her head. "I'm really not that hungry, thank you though."

David frowned. "You ate nothing for dinner last night."

Emily frowned too, a headache beginning to form. "So?" she sat up and glared at him.

"Nothing," David held up his hands in surrender. "I just wish you could see yourself the way I do."

"And how is that?" Emily rolled her eyes, her pleasant mood dissipating quickly.

"Beautiful," he pushed himself up and maintained eye contact.

"Oh please," Emily narrowed her eyes to prevent the tears from falling. "I'm fat. Fat fat fat."

"You are not!" David said vehemently and then tried to calm himself after he saw the scared look on Emily's face. "It's insulting to women who really are…larger. You are slender, and frankly, I believe you could benefit from gaining some weight."

Emily sat, speechless. Years and years of being in the fashion industry had taught her that her thighs should be skinnier than they were, her waist should be a perfect 22 inches, and her hips should be practically nonexistent. Yes it was a ruthless industry, but it was also Emily's passion. So she tried to shed the weight, forcing herself to stick to a strict diet. Soon, after months of starving herself with minimal results, one of the Runway models had taken pity on her and showed her the Holy Grail of diets-the cheese cube. Eat one cube every time she felt faint, and nothing else. It had worked wonders, and the redhead felt a huge amount of satisfaction and pride whenever an outfit was too loose on her. Sure she got sick easily, and her menstrual cycle had stopped, but it was worth it to be living her lifelong dream. And now, here was this gorgeous man telling her that she was too skinny. Emily felt tears well up in her eyes and she sniffled pathetically, silently cursing herself. She had built thick walls around her insecurity, and apparently all it took for them to come crashing down was a dreamy British man telling her she needed to gain weight.

"Oh shite," David's voice was compassionate, and he drew her in his arms. "Em, I'm sorry. Don't cry. You're perfect the way you are."

"You don't t-think I'm t-too skinny?" Emily hiccuped and allowed herself to seek comfort in the embrace.

"I think you'd be beautiful no matter what size you are," David kissed her nose. "I just don't want to see you starve yourself."

"I can't help it," Emily burst into a fresh round of tears. "I can't," she whispered.

"Em," David said quietly, and held her tightly to his chest. "Shh. We'll get through it together."

* * *

Andrea peered over her menu, stealing a glance at the wonderful woman across from her. The Editor's glasses rested low on her slightly crooked nose, and the brunette felt a wave of tenderness when she studied the other woman. She was wearing a dark purple dress that hung perfectly on pale shoulders, and revealed a hint of cleavage. Andrea shifted in her seat, feeling heat creep up her neck at the thought of Miranda's breasts. Almost on cue, the older woman spoke, making the brunette almost fall off her chair.

"See anything you like?" Miranda chuckled silently to herself when she saw Andrea jump in her peripheral. The writer tried to bury her face in her menu, and the Editor grinned at the other woman's actions behind her own menu.

"Er, I'm probably going to get the Spaghetti with King Prawns," Andrea blushed. "And you?"

"I'm going to order the Penne con Salmone," Miranda lowered her menu.

"Great," Andrea said, and set her menu down as well, smiling warmly at the older woman.

Miranda returned it with a small smile of her own, and looked around the restaurant. The ceilings were high, and the interior was modern, giving it a light and airy feel. Miranda had been skeptical at first when they had reached the place, the outwards appearance being slightly foreboding. Being a solid brick building with the word "garage" painted on it and nothing else made the place seem a little…unfriendly. But Andrea, with her beaming smile, had urged Miranda to follow her inside, promising that she would not be harmed. Of course, she was right. Miranda had absolutely nothing to worry about. She approved of the interior design, and the menu was reasonably priced. It cost considerably less than Smith and Wollenskys, but Miranda had confidence that their food would match her expectations.

"Did you know Prezzo Restaurant was previously a fire station and an auction house?" Andrea unwrapped her napkin and folded it in her lap. "My best friends, Lily and Doug, introduced me to this place a long time ago, and it's been our weekly hideout."

"Hideout?" Miranda raised her eyebrow. "From what?"

"Work," Andrea shrugged. "Life."

"Ah," Miranda said, wishing in that moment that she had a hideout to which she could escape to.

A blonde waitress came and took their orders, staring at Miranda as if she had a second head when the soft-spoken woman placed her order, before she hurried away.

"Geez, I wonder what her problem is," Andrea looked at the retreating woman's back before turning her attention back to Miranda.

"Hmm," Miranda said with a curve in her mouth.

"What?" Andrea chuckled.

"Oh, nothing," Miranda casually traced her fingertip around the rim of her water glass. Then she lifted it, and waited until the brunette did the same before she said, "To hiding from the rest of the world." Andrea giggled, and clinked her glass against Miranda's.

Their lunch was lovely, both women enjoying the other's company immensely. They shared stories from their everyday lives, as well as their childhood-well Andrea shared funny stories from her childhood while Miranda looked at her fondly and chuckled in the right places. Miranda couldn't remember a time when she felt more connected to another person as she gazed into the chocolate pools that shimmered with intelligence and wit. The young woman had proven to be a delightful source of company, and Miranda felt a pang when she remembered she was here on holiday, and would have to say goodbye to this wonderful woman. Andrea noticed Miranda's sudden quietness, and she waved the waitress over, who was still staring at Miranda with wide eyes. The brunette swiftly slipped some British pounds into the bill and nodded to the waitress.

"Thank you for a great meal," Andrea said warmly and stood to put on her jacket.

The waitress nodded dumbly and then scurried away. Andrea shrugged and walked around to the other side of the table to help Miranda into her own coat.

"Thank you," the Editor said, placing her hand on Andrea's forearm. "You didn't have to get lunch."

"It was my pleasure," Andrea grinned. "Let's get out of here before our waitress has a full-on heart attack."

She led the older woman to the door, unconsciously placing her hand on the small of Miranda's back in both a protective and possessive manner. They walked out of the restaurant, and were hit with a burst of cold air. Shivering, Andrea stuck her hands in her pockets, and tucked her chin deeper in her collar. Miranda shivered too, but it was less noticeable than the young woman. Suddenly her phone rang, and she fished it out of her pocket. Flipping it open, she said in a warm voice, "Hello Cassidy."

Andrea fell back a few paces, and frowned at the older woman's back. _Caroline. Cassidy. ….Andrea._ She sighed and shoved her hands deeper into her pockets before trailing after the beautiful woman, her spirits dampening with every step she took.


	5. Chapter 5

**I've been super busy lately, but I finally found some time to finish this fic. Thank you everyone who's followed/favorited/reviewed! Happy 2014. (PS. Ignore that Emily doesn't get in trouble for what she does in the end of this story. I know that she would have most likely gotten caught and arrested, but let's just suspend belief :)) Thanks!**

"Don't dawdle Andrea," Miranda turned over her shoulder and looked at Andrea. The tall brunette had been quiet ever since her phone call, and it worried the Editor. She stopped and waited patiently for the other woman to catch up with her.

"Coming," Andrea called and quickened her pace slightly. The cottage came into view, but before they entered the house, Miranda pulled Andrea's arm and stopped her.

"What's wrong?" Miranda crossed her arms.

"Nothing," Andrea tried to shrug it off, but Miranda's piercing glare stopped her. "Ok," she blew out a big breath and losing her nerve, stared at her shoes scuffing back and forth on the ground. "It's just…" Miranda reached out and gently tilted the younger woman's face back up to meet her gaze. Andrea swallowed nervously, feeling stupid for not being able to voice her thoughts. "With the risk of sounding like incredibly cliché, I think I'm falling for you," she whispered finally, tearing her eyes away from beautiful blue ones. "And I don't want to share you," she bit her lip when that part came out.

"Is this about Stephen?" Miranda grasped the glove-covered fingers in her own. "Because I can assure you-"

"It's about Caroline and Cassidy," Andrea blurted, and crossed her arms, suddenly getting passionate. "I'm sorry for looking at your phone id, but I couldn't help it. You get calls from them constantly, and you always answer it. Whoever they are, I will battle their affections and-"

"Darling," Miranda placed her hands on the brunette's forearms. "Andrea, while I am flattered by the intensity of your display, they are unneeded. Caroline and Cassidy are my children."

"Children?" Andrea's steam went out immediately, and her eyes softened. "You have children?"

"Yes, they are my pride and joy," Miranda ran her palms up Andrea's arms and locked them around the stunned woman's neck. "So while you may not need to battle for my...affections, as you put it, you will have to share me with them." She caught her lip between white teeth. "I apologize I didn't tell you earlier. I-"

"No need to explain. I get it," Andrea smiled and leaned in to press her lips against the older woman's, wrapped her arms around Miranda's slim waist.

The other woman smiled into the kiss and broke away just slightly to mumble, "That's something."

"What?" Andrea murmured, placing kisses down Miranda's neck and nuzzling the soft skin behind the Editor's ear.

"You were jealous of my _children_," she smirked but then moaned slightly when the brunette found an especially tender spot and bit it slightly.

"How was I supposed to know if you weren't some powerful woman with hoards of women at your beck and call?" Andrea chuckled and lathered the slightly irritated skin with a strong tongue, making the older woman feel weak at the knees.

"The powerful part is true," Miranda gasped, tightening her hold around Andrea's neck, feeling the writer smirk into her neck when she realized the effect she had on the Editor.

"Let's go inside," Andrea purred and ran her hands up and down the length of a slightly arched back.

"It's even colder in there," she pouted slightly. "We didn't keep a fire going when we left."

"I can think of _plenty _of ways to get you all warmed up," Andrea licked the shell of her ear.

"How can I be attracted to a woman with such smooth lines?" Miranda said breathlessly.

"Because I'm charming," Andrea pulled back and pecked her on the lips with a wide grin. "Let's go inside before you get even more cold."

* * *

Hours later, both women were panting and laying face-up, staring at the ceiling.

"Wow," Andrea chuckled breathlessly, breaking the silence.

Miranda rolled over and propped herself up on her elbow, resting her other arm in the space between Andrea's breasts. Her fingers traced nonsense patterns on the smooth skin, and she leaned in to press a kiss to luscious lips, slipping her tongue in the warm mouth.

"Satisfied?" Miranda said smugly after pulling away and leaving a panting Andrea gazing up at her with dilated pupils.

"Like you aren't," Andrea snorted.

"I am," Miranda smiled her rare smile and rested her head on the brunette's shoulder. "I'm happy."

Andrea pressed a kiss to Miranda's forehead and wrapped her arms around the slender woman. "I am too."

They laid in silence for a while, each appreciating the solace they found in each other, and the peace that settled into their beings. Andrea's fingers trailed up to the other woman's signature coif, and gently started to play with it. If it had been anybody else, Miranda would have pushed them away before they had even touched a single hair on her head, but Andrea's fingers were soothing, and they massaged her scalp in a way that made the older woman want to stretch out and purr like a kitten. For a second, she considered doing just that, but then remembered that they were taking a small break and settled for letting out a contented sigh instead, nuzzling closer to the heated skin.

"How long are you going to be in Surrey?" Andrea asked quietly, her nails scratching soothingly at the base of Miranda's scalp.

"Two weeks. Until New Year's," Miranda's spirits dampened at the thought of only having 14 days with this miraculous woman.

"Well we'd better make them count, shouldn't we?" Andrea held Miranda just a bit tighter as she said that, unknowingly sharing the same thought as the other woman.

"Yes," Miranda rolled over on top of the writer and looked down into soulful brown eyes with a tender expression. Without any words, she leaned in and captured Andrea's lips with her own.

* * *

David set the plate in front of her and Emily stared at it, her green eyes growing bigger and bigger with each passing second. The scent of the eggs, toast, and bacon wafted up and Emily's nostrils twitched unpleasantly. It had been a long time since she had indulged in those breakfast items, and her stomach churned at the scent. She looked pleadingly up at David.

"I can't," she said helplessly.

"Just one bite Em," David ran his hand through her hair and pressed his lips on her forehead. "I don't want to force you into anything, but I also want to help you get better."

"Ok," she picked up the fork and scooped up a small bit of egg on the utensil.

"That's it," David said encouragingly.

She hesitated before opening her mouth and popping the food in quickly so she didn't have time to dwell and second-guess herself. Chewing quickly, Emily forced herself to swallow the egg and then tossed the fork down when she was done. She had to admit, David was a wonderful chef, and the small amount of egg she consumed was delicious, but the greasy food was hard on her fragile stomach.

"It was good," Emily wrapped her hand in David's. "Thank you."

He leaned in to kiss her and then pulled back with a grin. "One bite of toast, and then we can do anything you want today."

"Anything?" Emily raised an eyebrow coquettishly.

"_Not _that," David frowned. "I told you…I hate it."

"But it's fun!" Emily whined playfully.

"Fine, but that requires three bites of toast, another bite of the egg, and a nibble of the bacon."

Emily narrowed her eyes. "Two bites of toast, a nibble of the egg, and a crumb of the bacon."

"Fine," David gave her another kiss. "Eat up. You're going to need the energy."

* * *

"Oh bullocks," David cursed under his breath and struggled to remain upright.

"You've got this," Emily laughed and twirled around him.

"I have no balance whatsoever," David frowned and grunted when he fell on his bottom for what seemed like the millionth time. "I hate the ice."

Emily chuckled and grabbed his arm after he shakily stood up. "I've got you."

"This is humiliating," David groaned. "I'm supposed to be the one supporting you!"

"Just because I'm a woman?" Emily raised her eyebrow.

"No," David shook his head and then flushed. "Ok, yes. It's more romantic if the girl is falling over the guy."

"Sexist," Emily sniffed. "I think it's romantic either way."

"I apologize," he held tighter to her arm. "You're right. This Rock place is beautiful."

"Rockefeller Center," Emily gently rested her head on his shoulder. "It's going to snow soon. Would you care for some hot cider?"

"Does it have alcohol?"

"Of course," her eyes twinkled.

"Then lead the way."

* * *

Andrea stared at her computer screen with her mouth open in shock. Curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she had stolen Miranda's laptop when the Editor was in the shower to Google the enigma. The search results that had popped up were astounding. Some headlines praised her as the American Editor of Fashion itself, while others called her a cold-hearted ice queen who wasn't capable of loving anybody. Rupert Murdoch had the most scathing comments on Miranda, and although she knew she shouldn't read any of the tabloids, Andrea couldn't help herself and she skimmed each snarky and cruel word with tears brimming in her eyes.

"Andrea?" a low voice said, and the brunette jumped.

"I-I'm sorry," she whimpered and looked at the beautiful woman in front of her. The white-haired woman, fresh from showering, had no makeup on and was clad in a grey silky short robe. Her iconic hair was mussed and shiny, and she was barefoot.

Miranda sighed and walked over to the bed where Andrea was sitting. "Darling, you shouldn't read those. I learned my lesson the first year I took over Runway. They're just a petty way for untalented people to make money."

"But they are so cruel," Andrea whispered and buried her face in her lover's warm neck. "They don't portray the real you."

"How do you know that isn't the real me?" Miranda reached up and stroked the soft brown locks with her fingers.

"Because I've learned so much about you in the past couple of days," Andrea's voice was slightly muffled. "You're not the ice-queen the press makes you out to be. You're one of the most caring and wonderful people I know. You love your children dearly, and I know your heart is pure and beautiful."

Miranda gasped slightly. "My, my," she whispered, overcome with emotion. "Nobody has told me that before."

"Well it's true," Andrea said with conviction.

"Thank you," Miranda pressed her lips on top of the writer's head. "You, my Andrea, are truly a magnificent young woman."

* * *

The days passed too quickly for all four people. They were all very much in love, but unwilling to admit it yet to the other person. Emily took David around to see the traditional New York places, and each day, she ate a little bit more than the day prior. David's favorite day was when they spent a lovely afternoon walking around Central Park, admiring the natural beauty of the park, while Emily's favorite memory was when they visited the Guggenheim Museum and watched an opera at the Metropolitan Opera House. Emily still worked at Runway during the day, but her nights were reserved for David. They spent the evening visiting new restaurants, seeing shows on Broadway, or spending a quiet evening together in either Nigel's or Emily's apartment. They fell a little more in love with each other with each passing day as they learned more and more about the fascinating life of their significant other.

Andrea acted as Miranda's tour guide in Surrey, taking her to Leith Hill, where they enjoyed a romantic walk around the historic area. The view was beautiful, and Miranda found herself planning a new photo shoot in the stunning location. They held hands as they walked, something that Miranda would never admit to anyone, but secretly enjoyed. The Editor had never held hands with any of her previous boyfriends, not even those in high school, but it seemed with Andrea, she felt free to let her guard down and indulge in the sappy but sweet romantic gesture. The brunette then took her to an even more romantic place, Silent Pool. As the writer explained to Miranda, she felt a connection to it because one of her favorite authors, Agatha Christie, was believed to have drowned in the lake, and Andrea felt her calming spirit there. The brunette loved the peaceful feeling it brought, and she always drew inspiration from the scenic place. She liked to believe that it was because Agatha Christie's ghost was watching her, and somehow helping her with her writing, but admitted it was highly unlikely. Besides visiting the beautiful scenery of Surrey, the two also went to the theatre, and watched funny British plays. Andrea did everything in her power to make Miranda comfortable and happy during her stay in Surrey, and was always rewarded at night when the Editor showed her just how much she appreciated her younger lover's efforts.

Soon though, their magical vacation was up, and Miranda and David had to return to their non-extrodinary lives back in their respective countries.

* * *

"Promise you'll call as soon as you land," Emily held out the boarding pass.

"I promise," David took the paper and tucked it in his jacket before taking the younger woman's hands in his own. "I'll miss you," he said softly, leaning in and resting his forehead against hers.

"I know," Emily responded and closed her eyes. "I'll miss you even more."

"We've talked about this. We'll make it work somehow," David wound his arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. "We _have_ to. We'll be together the two weeks you get off in the summer, and we still have next year's holidays to celebrate together."

"Yes," Emily mumbled and tried to hide her tears. She rested her head on David's strong chest, listening to his thudding heartbeat.

_Attention passengers. Flight 1829 to Surrey will begin boarding now._

"Time to go," David sighed and tightened his hold on her gently.

"I know," Emily whispered and finally let go. "Good bye David Mason."

He leaned in to kiss her. "Good bye Emily Charlton."

David gave her one last kiss, and then strode over to where Nigel was waiting. The bald-headed man was standing silently a distance away, giving the two lovers privacy and a chance to say goodbye properly. David embraced him and clapped him on the back.

"Thanks old friend," he smiled warmly at the man who had become like a brother to him.

"Thank you," Nigel said and grinned back. "It's always a pleasure having you in the States. Come back soon?"

"Of course," David shook his hand one last time and looked at Emily before walking through the security checkpoint.

Nigel walked over to where Emily was sobbing silently, and offered his shoulder as comfort. She turned and pressed her face into it gratefully, and sniffled pathetically. "I miss him so much already Nigel," she whispered.

"I know," Nigel said and patted her shoulder. "Emily, I'm going to say this once, so take it how you will. I've known you since the time you came to Runway three years ago. Not once in that time span have you ever taken a liking to a man. I mean, a _real _liking. Not just some fling or one night stand-a real connection that has a chance on becoming more. Now you've met the perfect man for you, and you're letting him walk away."

Emily slowly raised her head. "You mean…"

"I think he may be the one," Nigel raised an eyebrow. "It's up to you whether or not to get him back."

"Thank you Nigel," she breathed and hugged him before running after the man she loved.

* * *

Andrea watched Miranda carry her suitcase down the steps with a forlorn expression on her face. Her arms were wrapped around herself, and her dark eyes were sad. The driver Miranda had hired honked outside, and Andrea's heart fell at the sound. Miranda reached the bottom step and set her bags down to embrace her young lover. They held each other tightly, wanting to make the moment last forever.

"Promise to call when you land?" Andrea pulled back to look at Miranda in the face.

"I promise," the Editor said and pressed her lips to the brunette's tightly. "The second I land I will call."

"Tell Cassidy and Caroline I say hi," Andrea grinned, fighting back tears.

"I will," Miranda cupped Andrea's face in her hands. "Thank you for giving me the most wonderful time I've ever had."

Andrea kissed the soft skin on the older woman's palm. "Thank you for giving _me_ that precious time Miranda. I will cherish it forever." she leaned in and kissed Miranda deeply.

The car honked impatiently again.

"Oh shut up," Andrea sighed and wrapped her arms around Miranda's back. "I have a gift for you," she whispered.

"Oh?" Miranda was surprised.

"Here, it's not much, but hopefully it's something you can use to remember me by," Andrea said shyly and reached behind her to produce a multicolored hand-crocheted blanket.

"When did you have time to do this?" Miranda said, amazed at the intricate detail. The fabric was soft and warm, and Miranda fingered the material gently. "I was with you all night and all day. I never saw you work on this."

"I have my ways," Andrea grinned adorably. "I know how cold you get, so hopefully it will help keep you warm."

Miranda embraced the brunette again. "Thank you," she whispered in Andrea's ear.

"You're welcome," Andrea breathed back and kissed the underside of Miranda's jaw. "You'd better get going," she said sadly when she heard the driver lay on the horn.

Miranda picked up her bags off the ground and Andrea opened the door for her.

"Goodbye Miranda," Andrea pressed a tender kiss to the soft pink lips she loved so much and fought her tears valiantly.

"Goodbye Andrea," Miranda pierced her with a soft look. "I'll never forget you."

Andrea bit her lip and nodded half-heartedly with a small smile. The Editor picked up her bags and walked out to the car, struggling not to look back. She slid into the seat and breathed out heavily. Ignoring the driver, she opened her wallet and checked to make sure she had her passport and boarding ticket. Suddenly, something wet fell on her cheek, and she reached up, startled. In amazement, she followed the trail up to her eyes, and realized she was crying. Miranda smiled and laughed quietly to herself.

"Stop the car," she ordered.

"Ma'am, we are on a tight schedule-"

"Stop. The. Car," she said in her iciest voice.

The car stopped. Miranda flung open the door, and started running back to the woman who had stolen her heart.

* * *

"David!" Emily yelled. "Wait please!"

The tall man stopped and slowly turned around, not believing his ears.

"David," Emily breathed when their eyes connected.

He dropped his bags, and the redhead ran to him with her arms outstretched. He caught her easily and swung her around effortlessly, making no effort to control the few tears running down his cheek.

"I forgot to tell you something," Emily laughed joyfully, savoring the feeling of being in his arms again.

"What?" David smiled gently at her and held her closer.

"I love you," she said, peering up at him under her lashes.

"I love you too," he said and kissed her soundly.

"Spend New Year's with me? We can figure out what to do then," Emily held onto him tightly, not wanting to let him go.

"Of course Em," David hugged her back. "I'll go anywhere with you."

* * *

Miranda let herself into the cottage, breathing heavily.

"Andrea?" she called. "Andrea?"

The brunette appeared in the doorway, her brown eyes rimmed with tears and her nose all red. Miranda decided she had never seen anything more beautiful in her entire life.

"Miranda?" she whispered, her shock written clearly over her face.

Miranda strode over to her and stopped just a hair's length away, still breathing heavily. She took a deep breath, gazed into the brunette's chocolate eyes, and said, "I love you Andrea."

Andrea's face broke out into a beaming grin, and even more tears fell as she responded, "Oh gosh Miranda. I love you too. I love you so so much."

Knees weakening in relief, Miranda fell into Andrea's arms and they clung to each other tightly. Soon, lips were urgently pressed together and trailed up and down the expanse of smooth necks, and noses nuzzled soft cheeks reverently.

"Stay with me," Andrea murmured, caressing Miranda's face with her lips. "Please. I can't bear it if you leave again."

"I will," Miranda vowed. "Always."

* * *

New Year was spent at Miranda's house. She had flown Andrea to the States, and had invited Emily and David over after finding from Nigel that they were a couple. She smiled fondly at the thought of her first assistant finding love. The frazzled, overworked woman deserved someone who could help balance her. David seemed like the perfect man for the redhead. Miranda noted that Emily was eating again. She had never seen her assistant eat before, and it was slightly fascinating to see the woman actually consume the food instead of merely watching it with a longing expression on her face. Caroline and Cassidy were also there, and were instantly charmed by Andrea's British accent and easy-going personality. The divorce had ended quickly after somebody had leaked a picture to the press of Stephen and another man in a hotel room, locked in a rather compromising position. Miranda was convinced that her young love had something to do with it, but when asked, Andrea just raised an eyebrow and said she had nothing to do with it. Her eyes always danced and sparkled whenever she said that, and Miranda fell a whole lot more in love with her because of it.

A pair of arms wound themselves around her waist and a rounded chin rested on her shoulder. Miranda leaned back with a contented sigh and relaxed into the sweet embrace. The stereo was on and lively music was playing, filling the Editor with love and joy. She turned in the hold and traced Andrea's nose with her own, her arms locking themselves firmly around the brunette's waist.

"Dance with me?" Andrea smiled.

"Of course darling," Miranda took her young love's hand and led them back to the living room, where David was holding Emily, and Nigel was doing a fantastic job teaching Caroline and Cassidy how to do the Foxtrot. Andrea giggled at Nigel's dance antics, and Miranda leaned her head on the tall woman's shoulder. Smiling blissfully at the scene unfolding before her, the Editor felt an extreme happiness deep within her. The new year was going to bring about wonderful changes. She could just feel it.


End file.
